


the dark night of the soul

by politicalmamaduck



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dark Side Rey, Empress Rey, Enthusiastic Consent, F/M, Force Bond (Star Wars), Force Visions, Mustafar (Star Wars), No Pregnancy, Oral Sex, Rey is a Palpatine (Star Wars), Safe to Read if You're Triggered by Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:41:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26365108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/politicalmamaduck/pseuds/politicalmamaduck
Summary: Kylo Ren, Master of the Knights of Ren, swears his life to defend his Empress. After her grandfather, the Emperor, orders him to train her in the Force and for the two to journey to Mustafar, something unexpected occurs.
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 23
Kudos: 78
Collections: To Rapture the Earth and the Seas: the 2020 Reylo Fanfiction Anthology





	the dark night of the soul

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2020 Reylo Fanfiction Anthology: To Rapture the Earth and the Seas.  
> Title taken from San Juan de la Cruz’s famous poem “The Dark Night of the Soul,” La noche oscura del alma, in which the soul goes on a journey to a mystical union with God. An English translation with detailed explanations is available on [Google Books](https://www.google.com/books/edition/The_Dark_Night_of_the_Soul/0yNmj-6fwxoC?hl=en&gbpv=1&printsec=frontcover). Listen to the playlist on Spotify [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3SsKXgpbEug3Up1ijzfXcr?si=It6moIVYSf2wZORQBFbRAQ).

_“O guiding night; O night more lovely than the dawn; O night that has united the lover with his beloved, and changed her into her love.”_

Ben Solo dreamt of a girl.

Kylo Ren dreamt of a woman. 

When Ben Solo gave in to the tears, loneliness and pain, and cried himself to sleep at night, he saw a girl doing the same. She was small, younger than him, with barely enough clothing and food to survive. 

If she could survive, he told himself, so could he. Someday he would find her, and they would never be alone again. He would save her, and finally make his parents and his uncle proud.

Kylo Ren did not cry. Pain became his strength. It fueled his anger, honing him into a weapon for the dark. 

The girl from his dreams grew dark alongside him. Her clothing was no longer tan and brown, but black, and no longer did she reside in a sunny desert, but a dark desert, like him. 

He wanted to meet her, to join her someday.

Little did he know, she dreamt of him too. 

* * *

  
  


Kylo Ren, Master of the Knights of Ren, knelt before his new Empress. The young woman was Rey of Jakku, or rather, Remei Solé Palpatine, granddaughter of the Emperor himself, and heir to the ancient House Palpatine on Naboo. 

He swore his life to her, as did all of his Knights and the entirety of Emperor Palpatine’s court. 

She was tall for a woman, though still quite shorter than him, lithe and strong from years of physical labor while scavenging in the Jakku desert. 

She was beautiful, and more importantly, she was powerful in the Force. Untrained, but stronger than she knew. 

“Rise, my children,” the Emperor said, coming down from his throne high above the court, behind where Rey stood, looking out over them all, the Empire she would soon inherit. 

The Emperor offered her his arm as he approached her, and she took it. 

They stepped forward together, slowly, grandfather and granddaughter united and strong to conquer destiny, to shape the galaxy as they knew it into something better, stronger, more powerful. 

The Sith would rise from the ashes once more, a dark phoenix alight in the New Republic’s sunset. 

The Empire was reborn; the Final Order was yet to come. The Contingency had failed, but the Emperor’s cloning had not, nor had Kylo Ren. 

Only a pilot of great skill could find their way to Exegol, deep in the Unknown Regions, and only one with immense propensity in the Force could find their way to the ancient Sith throne where Palpatine dwelt, rebuilding his forces and marshalling support from Imperial remnants and the terrorist group calling themselves the First Order. 

The search for his long-lost granddaughter began in earnest once Ben Solo succumbed to the voices inside his head and joined the reborn Empire at the age of twenty-three. The voices in Kylo Ren’s head stopped the moment he swore Emperor Palpatine his allegiance. So had the migraines, the random aches and pains, and the moodswings. Kylo followed his instincts and the voice in his head to find and pledge his service to the Emperor.

That was six years ago. Those intervening years passed by quickly, though the individual days felt long, full of training, manual labor, hard work, and blood.

Yet the burning for something--or someone--he could not, and would never have, remained. 

He did not dare to look into her--the Empress’s--eyes as she and her grandfather approached him. He stood foremost before the throne with The Knights of Ren spread in a protective semi-circle behind him. They were the Empress’s new personal guardians. The Praetorian guard mirrored the formation at the back of the chamber behind the throne, ever vigilant of their duty to the Emperor whom they swore their lives.

The audience chamber was filled with the Final Order’s members, many of them having spent their lives on Exegol. They were all ready to do their duty to defend the Empire. To give their lives, if they must. They would not hesitate, would not question. 

Kylo had always struggled with these last two dictates. He questioned everything. He was innately curious, from the time he was a child. He always wanted to know how things worked, to take them apart and put them back together. He loved working on ships and droids almost as much as he loved his books and calligraphy.

It was something he shared that fateful night on Jakku with Rey. She offered him hospitality despite his fearsome appearance. Rey was kind, and beautiful, but those features were not the only reason Kylo was drawn to her presence. She was incredibly strong in the Force, so strong that it was no surprise to him that he came across her path.

But he could no longer share the intimacy of working together to fix a broken motivator with her, or teach her the ancient Sith or Naboo tongues. She was his Empress, a goddess who was put upon a pedestal to be worshipped rather than touched. She would no longer be burdened with fixing her own equipment, but rather with the intricacies of an Empire.

“You will begin her training, Kylo Ren,” the Emperor said. “Our Empress will be strong with the dark side of the Force.” Though the Emperor’s spirit, in all its malevolence, survived, his body did not. His cloned body was failing; it could not contain the immensity of the Emperor himself. He resorted to a number of regenerative and recuperative serums, as well as bacta tanks, and yet they only prolonged his body, rather than preserving it. 

Kylo would serve his Emperor and Empress as best they saw fit.

“As you wish, my master,” Kylo replied, his voice a gravelly rumble, his helmet masking his own weak tones, so much like his father. 

His father’s son was dead. Kylo Ren destroyed him. The boy that Kylo Ren had been was weak like his father in more ways than just his voice; his open facial expressions and his unyielding desire to help the needy were ever present. 

Kylo Ren was strong, an instrument of war, an extension of the Emperor’s will. He would devote his life to training his Empress, to guarding and protecting her. He would not fail. 

He was different from his family. They all failed to protect him. He would help his Empress understand the Force better than they had. The dark was patient and cunning. 

There was not only the ceremony and feast on Exegol that night, but also secret celebrations across the galaxy to celebrate the rise of a new Empire, the Final Order. Kylo longed to partake in some of the Alderaanian wine and sweetbread, but he knew he could not. His anger and pain would make him stronger. He knew the Empress would enjoy the feast, having so little to eat or drink on Jakku. That too, made him angry. It would be a vicious and bloody training session with the Knights the next day. His training with the Empress would be altogether different. 

She looked radiant, a luxurious dark cloak framing her and providing warmth over a stunning black dress, beaded with full skirts. Her pale skin seemed to glow as if illuminated from within, the beads on her dress catching the light and twinkling like stars. The dress was ordered from Coruscant, and shipped to a remote planet near the Unknown Regions, where a Final Order pilot retrieved supplies. They would retake Coruscant, and rebuild the Empire’s capital planet. Kylo Ren would make sure of it. And Rey would have all the beautiful dresses befitting an empress. 

He couldn’t take his eyes off of her. She looked so different from when they had first met, but he knew her still to be Rey, an intelligent pupil, a powerful Force user, a person who was just and merciful. 

She would be a wonderful Empress. He would make sure of it. He would ensure her training was unlike his own as night was to day on Jakku. 

* * *

Kylo took a steadying breath before their first lesson. Of all the things his uncle--Ben’s uncle-- taught him, breathing was perhaps the most important. 

“What do you know about the Force?” he asked Rey, sitting across from her the day after her presentation, his hands trembling. 

He was not nervous. Why would he be nervous? 

“It's a power that Jedi and Sith have that lets them control people and make things float,” she answered.

The answer was that of an innocent young woman, one who had never experienced the Force’s true power. Kylo couldn’t help himself. He busted out laughing. Then immediately stopped, turning the laugh into a mechanical cough behind his mask.

“I apologize, my Empress,” he said, bowing his head. “I will punish myself later for that outburst.”

His laugh was too much like his father’s. Uncontrollable. Undisciplined. Un-Force-like.

To his surprise, Rey shook her head. 

“Please don’t. You have no need to punish yourself for laughing,” she said, placing one of her hands atop his gloved ones. “I realize I have a lot to learn. My grandfather was more concerned with teaching me politics and strategy over the past few weeks.”

“Yes, my Empress,” Kylo replied. “Your grandfather the Emperor is wise. He has much to teach us both before your final ascension. And I will help you with what you need to learn about the Force.”

She nodded gravely, then looked down at her hands. 

“Please call me Rey when we are in private. I’m not used to such formality. It’s so different from how I grew up.”

“Yes, my--Rey,” Kylo answered. She smiled, softly, but fleetingly, then looked up to meet his eyes once more. 

“Could you remove your helmet, as well? The Knights do not follow the Mandalorian Way, correct?”

He hesitated. To show her his face would reveal his weakness. But he could not refuse her. He would not refuse her. 

He reached up to unclasp his mask, willing his hands not to shake, nor his face to betray his emotions. 

Kylo Ren hadn’t prayed since he swore his life to the Emperor, but if he did, he would have begged the ancient Naboo gods for mercy, that she would not find his face repulsive.

He removed his mask, then set it down on the table next to him, not daring to make eye contact with her. He then remembered that she, in fact, asked him a question along with the request to remove his mask.

He breathed and tried to pass the moment lightly, to not reveal what the action had cost him. “The Knights of Ren may remove their masks. Upon their Empress’s request, of course,” he added. 

“Thank you,” she replied. “It will be easier for me if I can look into your eyes. And now, shall we begin our lesson for today?” 

Kylo couldn’t help but blush. He nodded, and took another steadying breath. 

_Control, control, you must learn control_! echoed in his brain. His Emperor was wise--and merciless.

Kylo would control himself and help his lady learn the ways of the Force. 

“What does my lady know of the ancient Sith traditions?” he asked. History would be a good place to start. There was nothing in the thousands of years of Sith history that would betray his emotions. 

Until, of course, Rey answered his question. 

“I don’t know much, but even on Jakku, the star pilots and traders would discuss legends and favorite stories after a few too many drinks. I could usually only stay through one or two stories, though, because by then, they’d have drunk too much.” She lowered her eyes, her voice trailing off, and Kylo felt rage surge within him once more at how poorly she was treated for most of her young life. It was a tragedy that Emperor Palpatine’s long lost granddaughter had been left to languish for so long with no family, no training, nothing. She was abused by a Jakku trader, or rather, a junk dealer known as Unkar Plutt. There was nothing valuable left on that planet, save what the scavengers could find in the graveyard of ships that served as a memorial of the Rebellion’s last stand. 

He destroyed much of Niima Outpost with the Knights, but he would do it all over again in a heartbeat to avenge her. 

“I know the tragedy of the former Jedi Knight Darth Revan, and his Force bondmate Bastila Shan.”

Kylo did his best to keep his face neutral even though his heart began to race. Did she know how he dreamed of her? Did she know how he dreamed of having a bondmate, another half of his soul, like the fated Revan and Bastila?

The star-crossed lovers were indeed a famous tale, their lives having played out thousands of years before. Revan had ultimately returned to the light before his death, however, and watched over Bastila from his stasis torture chamber until her peaceful death as a Jedi Master. 

“They were a dyad in the Force,” Kylo said. “Perhaps the only one in recorded history. Do you know the concept?”

Rey shook her head, and Kylo continued. “A Force dyad is the pairing of two Force-sensitive beings, making them one in the Force. The power of a dyad is as strong as life itself, and the individuals who formed a dyad shared a connection that spanned across space and time. The Sith Eternal believe in a prophecy that states another dyad will come again. Your grandfather sought to create one, both with his own master and his apprentice, my grandfather, but was unsuccessful both times.”

“Why do you think that is?” she asked. 

Kylo swallowed. His Empress was very intelligent, having taught herself several languages, how to pilot a number of crafts, and much else besides that she needed to survive, all in isolation on Jakku with no parents, tutors, or guidance from anyone. 

When they first met, he noted how she had tried to create something beautiful out of the harsh nothingness in which she lived. Dried flowers, a doll, a small home. It wasn’t much, but it was hers. Kylo admired her efforts to build a home out of nothing. After leaving his uncle’s training temple, he gave up on ever making his quarters feel like home again. They weren’t, and they never would be. Even so, that night their conversation was stilted and awkward. Kylo could tell the young woman was curious about him and his mission, particularly about how he was getting off Jakku, but her questions were carefully worded and sparse. 

It was quite unlike the Rey he now knew. She was curious just as he had been. Perhaps her discomfort that fateful night on Jakku was due to his mask and robes. They were meant to conceal his identity, and protect him from the elements, for which he was immensely grateful in that climate. Rey betrayed no surprise that he was attired thusly, but graciously offered him her protection from that which lurked in the night when the temperature declined. There were far worse things than scavengers in Jakku’s Graveyard of Ships.

He knew that she was asking for his opinion out of genuine interest; there was no ill intent in any of her words or deeds. 

And yet he was still nervous that his words could be taken as criticising his Emperor, his grandfather, and the ancient Sith that had gone before them. But of course he had given the matter much thought, as the legends and prophecies echoed through space and time.

He swallowed and began his answer tentatively. “All is as the Force wills it. Yet the Force does not control us; we retain our free will as organic beings. What the Force wills cannot easily be undone, but the Force may will something different than what we intend. I think a Force bond or a dyad must happen naturally; it cannot be something that we choose. The Force had its own reasons for bringing Revan and Bastila together, whereas my grandfather and yours had their own reasons for wishing to create the bond.”

He stopped, and looked down at his hands, which trembled as slightly as his voice.

“Why did Revan choose the light over the dark?” 

With that question, Kylo was able to raise his eyes to his Empress’s face once more, and begin with her an earnest discussion of the light and dark sides of the Force, and the many famous masters of either side. 

He loved his history lessons as a boy, and it seemed she did, too. Once more, he lamented how she had been treated as a child. If they had been able to study together, how much they could have accomplished! Translations of ancient treatises, searches for the ancient artifacts… His mind raced with the possibilities. He would ask the Knights to help him collect texts for her to read, whether on real flimsiplasts or datapads.

He would do anything to make his Empress happy, and happy she seemed each day, sipping Gatalentan tea with him while they practiced languages, or even in hours they passed in silent contentment, reading from some of the many texts the Emperor had allowed for their use. He was easing her into the training, wishing to build upon a solid foundation of trust before unleashing the full power of the dark side. 

His Empress would be a sight to behold when they reached that point.

* * *

Kylo led Rey out of the Emperor’s palace, the Knights flanking behind at a safe distance. There were only those loyal to the Final Order on Exegol, but the planet’s atmosphere and desert surface combined to create perilous lightning strikes, and fissures formed instantaneously. 

“What is today’s lesson?” she asked, her hood drawn up over her face to protect against the dust. 

“You mentioned making things float on our first day. That’s what we will do today,” he said, taking her proffered arm as they stepped out of the shadows.

Kylo wished he had a garden for Rey, so that she could know green, living things. That she could lift smooth rocks, rather than boulders covered in dust. He attempted to quiet his mind, so that neither Rey nor the Emperor would pick up on his thoughts, though Rey seemed unperturbed. If she noticed, she had not indicated it. 

“What was your training like?” Rey asked, and Kylo knew he would not be able to hide his emotions if she looked upon his face or reached out towards him. 

_Lonely_ was the honest answer. No one ever truly understood him. His uncle tried to kill him. There was always that voice at the back of his mind telling him he could be so much more, if only he let go, if only he gave in to the anger.

But with Rey, he wasn’t lonely anymore. Rey understood, or at least she seemed like she did over tea and history and discussions about Force philosophy. 

He swallowed, his throat and mouth suddenly dry. 

“It was very different from yours,” he finally answered, also honestly--though perhaps not quite as honest as he would have liked to have been. But his Empress could not think him weak. “But I was not also learning how to run an empire while I was learning to control my abilities.”

She turned to face him, nodding. “I like your methods better. They are quite different from my grandfather’s.”

“I can imagine so,” he said, hearing the Emperor’s cold laugh echoing in his mind. Had it echoed for Rey as well, across space and time, when the nights were silent on Jakku? Had she been plagued by migraines and mood swings too? These thoughts Kylo could not voice he forced down within him once more, focusing on ensuring the ground was safe for Rey. 

He did not voice his thoughts aloud, but while they walked, his memories bubbled to the surface once more. 

Kylo performed his duties admirably. He himself found a young woman in the Jakku desert while searching for a wayward droid that possessed a piece of the map to where Luke Skywalker exiled himself after trying to kill Kylo while he slept. Kylo was stunned that the Imperial scanners and databases had not encountered her, or registered her birth previously. 

As it turned out, she went unnoticed for a reason. She was carefully hidden, a bargaining chip which had never come to fruition, lost to the sands of time on an abandoned planet that no longer served the Emperor’s plans. 

If only he had found her sooner. Neither of them would have been alone for so long. 

The past was the past, however, and Kylo was determined to let the past die; to kill it if he had to. He focused on the future represented by his Empress, his Rey. 

They walked until they were a distance from the palace, though it was still visible behind them. The ground was smooth and flat, no fissures apparent. There were plenty of large boulders and smaller rocks upon which Rey could concentrate. The Knights had done well in scouting the perimeter. 

“Reach out with your feelings,” he instructed, once she was seated comfortably. “What do you see?”

“The planet around us. Life. Death and decay, that feeds new life. Warmth. Cold. Peace. Violence.” Rey's eyes were closed, and her voice sounded distant.

“And between it all?” Kylo asked.

“Balance and energy. A force,” Rey replied.

“And inside you?”

“Inside me, that same force.” With that, Rey smiled, and seemed content.

The smaller pebbles started to shake and float upwards. Soon, they all rose to Rey’s seated eye level. 

After that, the boulders rose as well. 

Kylo and the Knights stood in silence, watching their Empress hold all the rocks in the air. 

She opened her eyes, and the rocks floated back down. 

After that, Rey’s training progressed even faster than Kylo had imagined. They were soon summoned for a formal appearance before the Emperor.

* * *

Despite knowing how devoted the Emperor was to finding, then protecting and educating his granddaughter, Kylo still found his presence to be foreboding. Kylo knew now it was the Emperor he had heard in his head for so many years, and how great and powerful the Emperor truly was. There was a slight prickling sensation at the back of his neck when he knelt before the throne in the great audience chamber. The Knights fanned out and knelt behind him in a semicircle, then Rey stepped forward in front of Kylo and inclined her head to her grandfather, before coming to stand at his side. 

She trusted him to serve at her right hand. It was an honor. Kylo would not allow pride to swell within him, for the Emperor began to speak. 

“You must go to Mustafar, my children,” the old Emperor said. “There, you will renew your vows to the dark side. Mustafar is not like other planets. It is unique. Deep beneath its surface rests an ancient locus for the dark side of the Force.”

Mustafar was a planet of flame and shadow. It housed his grandfather’s great fortress, and was slowly regrowing after the _Bright Star_ ’s destruction. This much Kylo knew.

Kylo said nothing, kneeling before his Emperor. His head was bowed, so he could not see the Emperor’s face, but he knew his master’s gaze would be upon him, searching for any signs of weakness.

He would not be weak. He forced himself to breathe, to act naturally. His hands were steady by his sides. 

Rey, however, could and would speak and act. 

“We have not completed my training,” Rey replied. “I do not feel ready. I still have so much to learn about the Force.”

His Empress was far braver than he. He did not, would not dare contradict his Emperor. He also would not dare to hope that perhaps Rey wanted to spend more time with him. 

The Emperor seemed to pause and think for a moment, looking into his granddaughter’s eyes. Also perhaps her mind and soul. 

Kylo did not envy her.

“You will go in three days’ time. Make your preparations,” the Emperor decreed. Rey made haste from the audience chamber with its dark throne, Kylo and the Knights following behind her.

Later that night, she summoned him for a physical training session.

Their ‘sabers clashed and sparked, glowing in the training room’s darkness. 

Red locked with red, making their faces appear eerie, spectral, inflamed. 

Perhaps they were inflamed, the two dancing a deadly duet punctuated by grunts, heavy breathing, and racing hearts. 

_Strike, block, parry. Follow through with your forms. Conceal your weaknesses._

Kylo had never been a graceful dueler. Dances, particularly the Alderaanian style, he could manage, though he was haunted by pubescent memories of tripping over his own too-large feet, his body grown far too fast for him to adjust accordingly. 

When it came to dueling, he was far too much of a brawler for the traditional Jedi style. He punched, fought, and kicked with his body as much as his ‘saber. 

Too many of the ancient Jedi had relied upon their weapon, not allowing themselves to truly be a weapon. 

Kylo Ren was a weapon; a powerful one, honed for his Emperor’s might. 

Rey too was a weapon. A far deadlier one, for she was yet a secret — a blade creeping through the shadows in the dark of night to strike when it was least expected.

Together, they would serve the glory of the Empire. Together, they could conquer and vanquish any foe, with the Force and each other as their ally. 

Their blades collided and crossed, together then apart, one then the other, until the two combatants trudged towards their refreshers, covered in sweat. 

Rey and Kylo had not spoken a word; they didn’t need to. 

Their bodies spoke for them, their passion and conviction evident with every twist and turn in their dueling dance. Where one led, the other followed.

* * *

The next three days passed by in a blur, for Rey was intent on using nearly every waking hour to cram every bit of knowledge they might need into her head. 

Every time they passed one another in the ship’s tight corridors, it felt as though there were a charge upon the air, a storm about to rise and strike. 

Kylo tossed and turned in his bunk for what seemed like hours before he was able to fall asleep.  
  


* * *

A young woman, proud and lithe, sat on a throne on a planet that blazed with flashing light.

The light was cold and unfeeling, however, it was a light that cast into shadow rather than illuminated. There were deep pockets of darkness among the stone, a darkness that sought to devour rather than comfort.

The throne was not carved, but hewn, grasping upwards as if to snatch the bearer, clawing for power.

The young woman’s hood was up, her face cloaked in shadow. The darkness suited her; her skin, what was visible, glowed like the moon, a beacon for all who were privileged to watch.

A young man knelt before her. Slowly, he rose, and ascended, step by step, his footfalls echoing in the cavernous space, to join her upon the throne. 

The audience chanted, praying, or invoking an ancient ritual in an alien language that made skin prickle and hairs rise on end. 

She reached out her hand, a black ring encircling her finger, beckoning him onward.

 _Closer_ , she whispered into his mind. 

_You are mine_ , she said, as he reached his own hand toward her. Their fingers were so close, almost touching, white and pink and alive in the darkness.

Kylo Ren awoke in his bed with a gasp. He was panting, his heart racing, and his sheets damp with sweat.

His cabin felt stifling, the ship way too small even with just the two of them on board.

He reached out to her in the Force. She slept, peacefully, blissfully unaware of his torment in the cabin next to hers.

Satisfied that his Empress did not feel his distress in the Force, Kylo laid back down on his bunk and forced his heart to stop racing, trying to control his breathing. 

Sleep would not return to him easily that night. It never did.  
  


* * *

Even though the sun had set, Mustafar still glowed, an eerie effect of the ever boiling lava flows. It was hot, the kind of heat that made lesser beings want to remove their clothing and bask in an ice bath.

Kylo Ren would not complain, would not show an ounce of discomfort for his Empress. He would throw himself into the lava if such was her command. It would be an honor to die for her. 

An honor he did not deserve.

They reached the ruins of what once was Vader’s castle amid Mustafar’s steaming mists and flowing lava.

He could feel the power of the dark side there. Kylo had never encountered a Force locus before, but the sensation was nearly unbearable, overwhelming in its pull. 

He wanted to give in, to surrender.

 _Darkness rises, and light to meet it_. 

All the rage, and pain, and unworthiness bubbled forth and spilled out through him.

He could feel the conflict within himself. He was sweating, from the heat and both the physical and mental efforts.

They reached the remains of Vader’s fortress, the dark side growing more potent with each step. The feelings were overwhelming.

He was worthless, he would never be worthy of her, when would the unyielding torment that was his daily life cease?

They entered the ruins, and Kylo felt the locus pulling on him. He walked as if someone were commanding his steps, drawing him forth. 

He could feel his own heartbeat pulsing through him as if it were a drum, could hear it echoing off the chamber walls. 

Rey reached for his hand, and he allowed her to clasp it. He could then feel and hear her heartbeat, her breathing, in sync and aligned as if their bodies were one. 

The dark was seductive. He could feel its energy reaching for them, surrounding them. He could see figures, images in the shadows: people, places, things that were not really there, but could have been, or perhaps were, in the past or in the future. 

What did the Emperor want them to do with this energy, with these visions?

A woman cried out in pain; it was not Rey. The woman was not nearly as tall or muscular as Rey, and her hair was much longer and fell about her shoulders in curls. 

“Annie, no,” she cried, her eyes glistening. 

She vanished into smoke as Kylo heard a mechanized respirator behind him. But again, there was no one there, though the shadows indicated a man even taller than Kylo, wearing a long black cape. 

He reached for Rey’s other hand, and she took it. They faced each other, holding hands at the center of the castle, but they did not see each other. Both were lost to the Force’s will, a multitude of visions sending them cascading through space and time. 

Light burst forth.

Kylo could not see through the brightness, but the dark side relented and the pain in his head ceased. 

The pain was gone. The anger was gone. The depression and anxiety were gone. 

The dark side was gone--not destroyed, not defeated, but not ever present and relentless. It met the light side as a lover, as a sibling, as a friend, as a parent, as a colleague. 

The two were one and whole only together, in balance, without one overpowering the other. 

Kylo--no, Ben--could breathe again. He could think again. His thoughts were only concerned with one being. 

_Rey_ , he said, across their minds, space, and time. 

_Ben_ , she answered, and then he could see her. Only her, beautiful and luminous and as she truly was, not as the Empress he and her grandfather had wanted her to be. 

She could see him. He could feel her mental touch grazing his mind, caressing him, telling him it was okay, he wasn’t alone anymore. 

She loved him.

She loved him.

He loved her. 

He felt whole, complete. 

In balance with the Force. 

It flowed through him, and he flowed through her and she flowed through him and they were one and the circle was complete. 

“Rey,” he said, not realizing he was sobbing. 

“My Ben,” she said, and he could feel her hand on his face even though they were still holding hands and he was still wearing his mask and the Force was one and they were one and…

They were forced apart as what remained of the castle exploded around them. 

The planet was enveloped in a sizzling mist as Mustafar’s searing heat and bubbling lava dissipated under the first rain the planet received in years. Trees began to rise from the ash while volcanoes went dormant. 

Ben awoke on his back on a stone slab, Rey lay next to him, his left hand still joined in her right. He knew he was bruised, but he felt better than he had in years. He would let Rey rest and heal. 

He scooped her up in his arms and carried her back to their shuttle, leaving a healing, balanced planet behind them.  
  


* * *

Ben applied some bacta patches and a healing salve to himself, after spending a fair amount of time in the refresher washing off the sweat, dirt, and dust. He then carefully examined Rey, applying what remained of the bacta patches and healing salve to a gash on her head and her other visible injuries. He reached for her in the Force, and found her presence bright and strong, in balance the way he felt. 

She was healing, but responded to him. Satisfied with his examination, he collapsed into his bunk and fell into a dreamless sleep. 

He awoke to find Rey curled up beside him, clinging to him as if he were an anchor to life.

She reached up to stroke his cheek with trembling fingers.

Her hands were callused, but the rest of her skin was soft and warm. He would not trade her callused hands for anyone else’s. They were his Rey’s hands, and they were precious.

“Rey--” he started, choking up, not even sure where to begin. He continued stroking her hands, feeling them in his own, knowing that she was there, she was his, he was hers, they belonged together and everything was so overwhelming, her touch so soft yet strong, she was utter perfection, _she was here and now and she was his and he was hers_. 

“Ben,” she said, breathing, exhaling, a sigh of relief, a prayer, a word of gratitude, power in his name. 

She looked up at him, and then his tears began to fall. 

She broke their clasped hands to brush away his tears, to stroke his face. 

“You’re not alone,” she said.

“Neither are you,” he replied, smiling through the tears. 

She stroked his cheek once more with her thumb, then brought his face down to hers. She kissed him without hesitation, though tentatively. He knew with certainty it was her first kiss too. 

They had the rest of their lives to be each other’s first everything. Their first kiss, their first date. Their first--and only--love. A dyad in the Force, bonded within and without. 

They kissed, and he smiled, and she smiled, and he would have died for her, to see her smile forever, impaled himself on his own blade, his Empress, he would spend the rest of his life making her happy, bringing justice to the galaxy, ending slavery and forced labor and servitude and--

She kissed him again. He reached out to her in the Force; she was laughing at him, enjoying his nerves, his dreams, his plans. 

“My Ben,” she said, cupping his cheek once more. “I am not laughing at you. I am enjoying this moment, relieved that I have you here with me. My soulmate, my bondmate.”

Their robes were the first to fall to the floor. Their movements were soft, and hesitant, careful of their injuries. 

Rey stroked down his chest as he rubbed her back, both enjoying learning each other’s bodies, savoring the soft skin over strong muscles. 

He loved looking up into her eyes as she straddled him. He could feel her wetness through her undergarments as he knew she could feel him becoming hard. 

They kissed and Ben felt like his heart would burst through his chest. He wrapped one arm around her to bring her closer while running his other hand through her hair. 

They could have kissed for hours, or perhaps they did, before he asked her permission to remove her underwear. 

“Yes,” Rey said, and he gently switched their positions so that she was laying down upon the small bed, while he kissed his way down her chest to her core. He tossed her underwear to the floor with their robes, and bent his head to her labia. 

He kissed and licked and sucked, enjoying every taste, every sensation, every moan and gasp until Rey cried out in pleasure, rubbing herself against his face. 

It was then that he reached out through the Force and their minds joined once more, as their bodies would. 

He scooped her up in his arms, but she placed a palm over his heart and pushed him back down onto the bed so that she could straddle him. 

“Please, Ben,” she said, and he nodded, taking her hand once more as she adjusted and situated herself, sheathing his cock within her. 

He moaned, and he knew the Force burst from him with the breathtaking sensations as Rey began to move. He moved with her, and she with him and he could hear and feel everything from both within and without--their heartbeats, their breathing, their thoughts and feelings. 

Their climax was everything he ever dreamed it would be. 

Their future, yet to be decided. Their Emperor remained. But for that night, Ben Solo and Rey Palpatine slept in peace.

**Author's Note:**

> A huge thank you to my RFFA mod sisters and editors Celia and Victoria, and my beta boo Desiree, for helping me make this piece the best it could be. Please leave a comment with your thoughts and come find me on Tumblr!


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